


Untitled (Greg/Grissom BDSM Hooker AU)

by rsadelle



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Prostitution, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-27
Updated: 2007-12-27
Packaged: 2017-10-28 13:30:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/308352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rsadelle/pseuds/rsadelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The brunette asks him to sit so she can swab his wounds for trace evidence. He knows who she is. She's the one who wants what he has. He stands and watches her rummage through her supplies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untitled (Greg/Grissom BDSM Hooker AU)

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this in comments to an entry in [](http://ruby-fruit.livejournal.com/profile)[**ruby_fruit**](http://ruby-fruit.livejournal.com/) 's LJ, so it starts out with comments from both of us. This has both an unfinished sex scene and one that actually goes all the way tot he end.

Me: I know! Now Greg as the BDSM version of Julia Roberts...

[](http://ruby-fruit.livejournal.com/profile)[ **ruby_fruit**](http://ruby-fruit.livejournal.com/) : YES! Greg the whore on his knees in a dark alley. Mmmmm.

Me: Greg the whore getting fucked by some really big guy against a brick wall in the same alley. And one day, along comes a customer who insists on a hotel--a nice one--and ties him up.

Me: And the bondage would make Greg the whore a little nervous, because this could get dangerous, but the guy's paying him a lot of money, and he paid for the hotel room for the whole night; maybe he'll leave early to go back to his own life and Greg will get to sleep in and enjoy the free continental breakfast.

[](http://ruby-fruit.livejournal.com/profile)[ **ruby_fruit**](http://ruby-fruit.livejournal.com/) Ha! And then of course, he gets him mind (among other things) blown. _And_ breakfast.

Me: Ohhh. Because it turns out the guy knows how to fuck. And how to feed breakfast to someone who's still tied without spilling any of it on the sheets. He pays for the second night too, but he leaves just after dinner, taking a key and leaving Greg without an explanation.

[](http://ruby-fruit.livejournal.com/profile)[ **ruby_fruit**](http://ruby-fruit.livejournal.com/) : Ooo. And since Greg was such a good sub, Grissom makes a habit of him. No real set pattern, just whenever the job gets to him.

Me: Ohhh, yeah. And then pretty soon it has nothing to do with the job. He shows up on Greg's corner on days when he's solved a particularly challenging case so he can celebrate. He spends his birthday in a hotel room with Greg tied to the bed. He picks Greg up even on average days when nothing spectacularly good or bad happens.

[](http://ruby-fruit.livejournal.com/profile)[ **ruby_fruit**](http://ruby-fruit.livejournal.com/) : And now my brain is thinking that eventually Grissom would offer to put him up in a hotel permanently if Greg stopped seeing other customers. Damn you.

Me: Hee! That's always where this bunny was going. Although, really, an apartment would probably be cheaper than a nice-enough hotel room, plus then Greg would have some real space to himself. At first, Grissom just visits when he wants sex, but then he starts spending more time there. He brings some of his bug journals with him. He pores over the details of cases at the apartment, and Greg comes in and drapes himself over Grissom's shoulder to kiss his neck and give him a drink.

I've been thinking about this all day, so this is where it's going in my head: The CSI team gets called to the apartment because the neighbors called to report a disturbance. Sara and Catherine get there first and start gathering evidence while Brass is taking Greg's statement. Some other street whore who Greg used to do threesomes with showed up asking Greg to do a job with him. The guy didn't take it well when Greg said no.

The brunette asks him to sit so she can swab his wounds for trace evidence. He knows who she is. She's the one who wants what he has. He stands and watches her rummage through her supplies.

"Why'd you say no?" she asks him, as if it's her business, as if Brass hasn't already asked.

"I don't do that anymore."

She waits for him to sit, but she'll have to ask at least once more before he does it.

"This is a nice place," she says. "How can you afford it?"

"I'm kept," he tells her, making just those two words sound as sordid as he possibly can. "He pays the bills."

"And what do you do?" she challenges.

He smirks at her. "Him."

Gil's voice snaps at them from across the room. "Greg, Sara, that's enough!" Both of them start guiltily. "Greg, sit down," Gil orders.

Greg sits.

"Sara, dust for prints. Catherine, swab Greg for evidence. We'll need his shirt, too."

Catherine looks at Greg speculatively; if she hasn't figured it out yet, she will soon. She pulls on gloves and undoes the buttons on his shirt. Greg pretends not to see Sara watching him. He shrugs out of the shirt and lets Catherine put it in an evidence bag while Gil sprays luminol down on the floor in the entryway.

Catherine asks him a few more questions, mostly trying to figure out where to look for the most evidence, and then she leaves him to help Gil take samples of whatever the luminol is making glow. Greg can't remember if any of it will be his or Gil's; they've fucked in most places in the apartment, and there's probably been a time when he didn't let Gil all the way in before he sucked him off.

Gil has Sara move on to taking more pictures and comes over to Greg. "Let me see." He tips Greg's chin back and looks at his injuries.

Greg tries to twist out of his grip. "I'm fine."

Gil tightens his fingers on Greg's chin. "Don't argue with me, Greg." So Greg stops arguing and lets Gil wash and bandage all his hurts.

"Are they almost done?" He realizes he's whining, but he's tired and he doesn't want Sara any deeper into their space.

"Not quite." Gil's calm, which means he understands and is going to let it slide. "We need all the evidence we can get to convict him."

Greg scowls at him. "If they even go after him. No one cares if a couple of whores fight."

"We'll get him." Gil's fingers brush his unhurt cheek in a soft caress. "No one touches you without my permission."

"Stay there." Gil goes down the hall, leaving him with Catherine and Sara.

"Do you always do what you're told?" Sara asks him.

"Do you ever?" he snaps back.

"Cut it out," Catherine tells them both. "Sara, can you check for prints over here?"

Gil comes back with a shirt Greg hasn't seen before. Gil sometimes brings out presents for him from the locked drawer in the bedroom, but he never knew there were everyday things in there too. Gil guides his arms through the sleeves--long sleeves, and the shirt is flannel, like something Gil might wear but in Greg's size, and too hot for the time of year. The air conditioning comes on while Gil is buttoning it for him. The shirt is soft against his skin, like it's been washed a couple of times.

"We're done here," Catherine says, interrupting Greg's enjoyment of his gift.

Gil doesn't even turn to look at her. "I'll meet you back at the lab."

Behind him, Catherine hands car keys and evidence bags over to Sara. "Take this stuff back. I'll ride with Grissom."

Greg watches Sara think about arguing and think again when Catherine glares at her. She doesn't quite slam the door behind her.

"Don't leave the apartment," Gil tells him. "Keep the door locked and the chain on. Don't let anyone in until I get back. I want breakfast to be ready when I get off shift.

"That's an order," he adds when Greg is silent for too long.

"Yes, sir," Greg responds automatically.

"Good." Gil stands without touching him again. Greg nearly reaches out to him, but he stifles the impulse before he can get in trouble.

After Gil and Catherine are gone, he makes himself get up and put the chain on the door.

***

Greg peers through the peephole and gratefully unlocks the chain when he sees that it's Gil. He's antsy now; it's been hours and he hasn't been able to go anywhere. Making breakfast helped, but he's still ready to crawl out of his skin.

He doesn't dare touch Gil, so he just closes and locks the door behind Gil and waits.

"Did you make breakfast?" Gil asks.

"Yes." He doesn't disobey Gil, and Gil knows it.

He's set the table, too, and Gil sits down and waits expectantly for Greg to join him. They eat in silence, and Gil still hasn't touched him.

"Leave it," Gil says when he starts to clear the table. So Greg leaves the dishes and the orange juice and the leftover eggs on the table and follows Gil into the bedroom.

Gil tells him to strip and he lets the clothes slide off of his body. He carefully hangs his new, barely worn shirt in the closet and dumps the rest in the hamper.

Gil makes him fasten the cuffs around his ankles and one wrist. Gil does the other wrist without touching anything more than the buckles.

When the touch finally comes--Gil's hand flat against his stomach, nothing more--Greg nearly comes off the bed.

"Gil." It's a strangled plea, and it gets him what he wants. He knows, from the way Gil rushes turning him over and readjusting the ties that hold his cuffs to the bed.

There's lube, just enough so it doesn't hurt too much.

***

He goes down to the police station a few days later to do the official ID. Afterwards Gil takes him to a bench outside his office to wait for the end of the shift.

He makes sure to sprawl. It unnerves Gil's subordinates.

A guy with broad shoulders, who he recognizes from Gil's descriptions as Nick, glances at him on his way into Gil's office with a file folder. Greg gives the guy some credit for not giving him a second glance. On the other hand, he was a cop. He probably knows everything he would need to give a sketch artist for a perfect likeness of Greg at this moment.

Greg continues to lounge and ignore the looks Gil's staff is giving him while Gil meets with Nick.

Nick comes out, looks at Greg, and leans back into Gil's office to invite him to join the rest of the team for breakfast. Gil looks out through the large windows of his office at Greg and accepts for both of them.

They end up at some diner, where everyone but Greg seems to be a regular, and Gil's team heads for a booth in the back.

Gil pushes Greg into a corner, and Nick nabs the corner across from him. Gil's next to Greg, of course, and Catherine's on Gil's other side. Warrick, who isn't stupid, slides in next to Nick before Sara can.

Warrick starts up a conversation about basketball with Catherine, and Nick and Greg join in a bit while Sara and Gil focus on their menus.

"You ever shoot hoops?" Greg asks Nick.

Nick shrugs his big, wide shoulders. "Sometimes."

"Sometimes," Warrick says. "You might actually win once in a while if you played enough to call it sometimes."

Nick just laughs. "Hey, man, I played football in high school."

Greg gives him a slow smile, all his attention on Nick's face. "Really?"

Gil stiffens next to him, and when the waitress comes to take their order, Greg doesn't get to make his own choices. And, oh, yes, there's a spanking waiting for him at home.

Greg does his best to both ignore Sara's hostility and flirt with Nick just enough to really earn that spanking.

Gil slams the door behind them. "Clothes off. Now."

Greg starts stripping the moment Gil's mouth opens, and he doesn't need to wait to be told before he drapes himself over Gil's lap.

Half a second later, Gil's hand comes down on his ass, and ten seconds after that, there's definitely a rhythm going. Less than a minute after that, Greg wails for the first time.

And five minutes after that, Greg comes all over Gil's work clothes.

Gil yanks him up and somehow he has the lube from the coffee table in his hand, and then two fingers are inside Greg, and then Gil's inside Greg, and his cock is rubbing so good against that spot inside him and the hair of his legs stings against the sensitive skin of Greg's ass, and by the time Gil comes, Greg is a trembling, well-fucked mess.

Gil stands up with Greg still draped over him. Greg barely manages to hang on as Gil takes him down the hall to the bedroom and slides him, stomach down, between the sheets.

Greg hears Gil's clothes hit the floor, and then Gil gets in bed with him and drapes one large, warm arm across Greg's back.

Thank goodness that was Thursday, because it lets him spend all day Friday healing before Nick comes over to shoot hoops on Saturday. There are hickeys Greg doesn't remember getting on his neck, but after a first sharp glance, Nick is nice enough to ignore them, and they have a lot of fun on the court downstairs.

At least until Greg charges a little too hard and ends up with a scraped knee. Nick helps him up the stairs and into the apartment, which is fine until Gil notices.

"What did you do to him?" He pushes Nick out of the way and puts his arm around Greg.

Nick's no idiot; he steps away from Greg and lets Gil take over.

"It's not his fault," Greg says. "Offensive foul, I swear, Gil."

Greg's head tips back under Gil's kiss, and Nick pretends not to notice Gil's thumb digging into one of the bruises on Greg's neck.


End file.
